


Ship's Rats

by Eilinelithil



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 01:56:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17519996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilinelithil/pseuds/Eilinelithil
Summary: Bryce intercepts a puzzling outgoing communication, leaving Crewman Quinn with some explaining to do.  Just a little bit of fun before I start to get serious with ST:DSC.





	Ship's Rats

Lorca had insisted on this addition to his duties; on his monitoring of internal communications, and even though it made Bryce profoundly uncomfortable, he'd learned it didn't do to disappoint the captain. Still, he felt like some kind of class snitch.

The comm beeped, signaling that someone aboard ship had initiated a transmission, and glancing toward the captain's chair as if to confirm his presence - something the reduced light levels on Discovery's Bridge told him without the necessity of visual confirmation - Bryce stifled a sigh, knowing he had no choice but to 'eavesdrop' on his unsuspecting shipmate, unless...

He inched his fingers along the console, reaching for the key that would quietly close the channel and erase the data.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?"

_ Damn it. The man had eyes in the back of his head, and sharp ears to match. _

"No, Sir," he answered, "It's all--"

And then he glanced, and frowned at what he saw scrolling across his screen, and for once he wondered if the captain had been right to be vigilant... even suspicious.

"Lieutenant," Lorca unfolded from the captain's chair and turned his way, making Bryce want to melt into his own station. "I'm not in the habit of mind reading, so unless you want to spend the next six months encoding every single ship's log by hand, I suggest--"

"Someone... someone on board, Captain, has opened a ship to ship transmission, only... it makes no sense, it..."

Bryce turned in his seat, giving the transmission his full attention, whilst simultaneously running a systems' diagnostic, hoping like hell that it  _ was  _ a malfunction, and not a crew member sending some kind of coded message to who-knew-where. He felt, rather than saw, Lorca cross the Bridge to stand behind him, leaning down to peer over his shoulder at the characters still running over his screen.

_ "...F 2xcxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxcccccccccccx-085 _

_ Oy 899999999999999999999999999jiiiggggggggg4 _

_ + _

_ 33 _

_ 45+++++++++++++++5 _

_ 8e9g _

_ Z@TZwsvpb7l..." _

"What the hell am I looking at?"

Lorca's subtle drawl came as more of a growl against his ear, and Bryce's jaw tensed as he barely shook his head.

"I don't know, Sir, I--"

"Source and destination, Lieutenant," the captain snarled, "You know  _ better _ than to waste time!"

Bryce snapped out of his state of shocked inertia, even as Lorca called security to order, ready to send them to whomever the message originated from.

"Deck 3," Bryce ran a back and forward trace in the same instant, his hands moving on autopilot, so he didn't have to think about what he was doing. "Crewman Quinn." He bit his lip, waiting a moment longer for comm telemetry to provide him with the destination of the message.  It came a moment later, and he frowned, "Home, Sir. Earth."

Lorca pushed away from his station, and Bryce breathed a sigh of relief and dread commingled: relief for himself and dread for Quinn, even  _ if _ his ship-mate was up to no good, it  _ really _ was a dangerous game to play... to cross the captain.  He was not a forgiving man.

"Security, have Quinn brought to my ready room. Mister Saru - you have the bridge."

** ** **

His head was still spinning from the turn of events that had plucked him - via what felt like a raid by security - from his quarters, to the inside of the captain's ready room.  The captain stood, stiff backed behind his desk, his gaze fixed out of the window, PADD in hand until Quinn came to a stop in front of the desk, and instinctively reached out toward the large fur-ball perched on the corner of it.  He jumped as Captain Lorca spun around and tossed the PADD onto the desk with just the right amount of force to bring it skidding to a halt barely an inch from Quinn's fingertips, drawing trills of protest from the tribble that shuffled further along the desk.

"Explain!"

Quinn swallowed and picked up the PADD, reading its content in a single glance and uttering a soft, "Oh, God!"

"Mister Quinn?"

"It was... I didn't..."  Quinn took a breath to steady himself, glancing toward the tribble before setting the PADD back down where the captain could see it. "I apologize, Captain.  You see... I keep pets, rodents, and I was distracted. Didn't realize that Tyrian was walking all over my console until it was too late, and the message had already been sent.  I like to send letters, Sir, not holo-communications so--"

Unexpectedly, the captain cut him off with a chuckle, and Quinn didn't know whether he should be relieved or even more worried. He tried to think it through quickly; to figure out how much trouble he would be in. He knew full well it was in his file that he had brought his pets aboard as he'd had to have permission to do so. In the end his physician had signed off on it, certifying them as 'Service Animals,' an aid to his mental health in a stressful environment. The captain  _ had _ to know that.

"As you were, Mister Quinn," Lorca said almost softly, again surprising Quinn, and he saw the captain glance toward the quietly trilling tribble. "Dismissed."

Quinn nodded a formal acknowledgement, and quickly turned to leave before the captain could change his mind.  He barely reached the doorway before Lorca's voice followed him.

"And Quinn? See to it that you and your... pets don't come to my attention again."

"Aye, Sir," Quinn said, adding quickly, "Thank you, Sir," as he all but bolted through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet came about after my rats really _did_ walk on my computer keyboard.


End file.
